


Do You Really Need Everyone In The World To Love You

by thelocalmaniac



Series: Lucio Is Smitten [2]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Established Relationship, Gen, Gender-Neutral Apprentice (The Arcana), Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Nonbinary Apprentice (The Arcana), Nonbinary Character, Other, Romantic Fluff, Sex, They/Them/Theirs Pronouns, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trust Issues, lucio is confused and emotional, named apprentice, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-23 20:28:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21087338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelocalmaniac/pseuds/thelocalmaniac
Summary: “Do you want to stay here when you get your body back?”When. Not ‘if’. Appreciating their certainly in his future, Lucio snuggled closer. “Where? The Palace? Vesuvia?”Elodie shrugged, looking at the ceiling now. “Both. Either.”





	Do You Really Need Everyone In The World To Love You

**Author's Note:**

> This will likely end up being canon divergent, but as of now it could follow the most recent chapter for Lucio's route or "I Said We Were In This Together, Right?" depending on which you would prefer.
> 
> None of the writing or characters from Nyx Hydra's "The Arcana" are mine.

It had been a week since Elodie and Lucio had returned to the Arcana Realm to take down the Devil. After what felt like hours of a stand-off they had bound him, and he turned to stone. When they returned, they celebrated their victory—but it wasn’t one of the big parties that they used to throw at the palace before Lucio’s death, but a far more intimate one. Nadia and her servant (“_Portia_,” Elodie muttered, elbowing him) were there, as was the magician, Asra. For some reason, Jules had come, too (“Julian is Portia’s brother, Lucio. Remember? We found that out? That’s a thing we know?”). They had drunk and danced and feasted the night away, and nobody had been mean to him, and Elodie had kissed him in front of their friends, something he hadn’t expected them to be comfortable doing. 

The world was not ending. The Arcana Realm was not merging with their own. For now, everyone was safe. 

After everything, there was only one problem. 

Count Lucio still did not have a body of his own. 

Thanks to Elodie’s magic and how tactile they were with him, he was as physical as he ever had been—physical enough to eat, physical enough to touch Elodie, physical enough to fuck them after a heated whisper of, “I want you, _now_.” But it was not the same. His spectral form was greyscale, he did _not _feel the sun on his face, or a bitter breeze as fall came upon Vesuvia. He didn’t want to die and thankfully, he wasn’t dead...but he wasn’t _alive_, either. They had hoped to learn about how to create a body for him in the Arcana Realm, but instead they had been hunted and tormented by Lucio’s past. 

It bothered him more than he cared to say. (That wasn’t true—he complained about it endlessly, tirelessly.) That Elodie had to will and wish his clothes away so he could have sex with them. That he could not stray too far before he would be stuck, again, barred from leaving no matter how hard Elodie tried to find a magic that would let him live an independent life. That he was not visible enough to his other “friends” who had helped them in their journey to defeat the Devil and often had to communicate via the apprentice. It was exhausting. Lucio was sick of it. 

Lucio rolled over in their bed to feast his eyes upon the young apprentice--younger than him, though he wasn’t sure how much. He would need to ask them, sometime. 

Not for the first time, he was bewildered by their presence, marveling at the fact that they were here with him. They always stayed no matter how cruel or self-absorbed or flighty or dishonest he was. They were exasperated with him more often than not, this was true, but at the end of the day they would hold out their hand to him with warmth. Trust. Kindness. Lucio had never known these things before, but little Elodie offered them freely. 

Yes, it was a foolish thing of them to do. But fuck, was he grateful for it. 

His eyes flickered over the magician’s gentle features. An angular face, sun-kissed skin, stardust freckles across their face, far too many to count—full lips, lips he was quite partial to kissing, and thick eyebrows. They were likely from somewhere in the East, originally, before their family had migrated here. Or maybe they had traveled here alone. Another thing he would need to ask them. He knew so little about the apprentice, and a part of him hated himself for it. 

Lucio reached out to card his fingers through their hair, briefly; they hummed and pressed into the hand like a cat, still far too trusting to be real. _It’s hard to believe any of this is real. _They were so small and soft, and yet so _powerful_. 

Their power was something that once Lucio would have envied. But he was not envious of them. No, he had seen them storm down the Devil’s gates to rescue him, watched them fight against the Devil and bargain for his life, strong where he was helpless. He hated being helpless—but he did not hate them. 

Tired of Elodie being asleep when he wasn’t, he tugged a lock of their copper hair. Elodie frowned and tried to shift away, and Lucio grumbled his annoyances as he pulled them back, pressing insistent, messy kisses to their face until they finally stirred. Olive green eyes blinked awake, groggy. Lucio watched them hungrily, a wide grin already spreading across his face; he was besotted with this imp of an apprentice. Even just seeing them watching him with frank annoyance made him want to hug and kiss their expression away. “Your breath smells like shit,” he informed them fondly. 

“Thanks.” Elodie stretched, barely responsive to his reverent kisses across their jawline. They turned back onto their side to meet his gaze, expression warm, and Lucio felt a strange tingle in his stomach. He was not used to intimacy with sex, or the tenderness that came after, and these last few days he had been uncomfortably overwhelmed with both. 

But he welcomed it, because it was from Elodie, someone he knew would not turn on him. After he had made a deal with them for a human form they could have asked him to plot and scheme for them, could have asked him for money and power and his servitude. But even after all that he owed them, they just wanted _him_, apparently. They only asked for whatever decency he had left to give, and he did not know what to do with that. “Ready to go back to the library?” Elodie asked, more alert now, propping their head up in a hand. 

Ah, right. Elodie had been reading every book they could find in the Palace for information on how to create, or obtain, a new body. They had not been interested in dark magic, much to Lucio’s chagrin, which severely limited their options. (“Do you remember how much the Arcana hated you, Lucio? We are _not _making them any angrier.”) 

Lucio screwed up his face in disdain. “Urgh. _No_. Can’t we go and fight something instead? Or erect a new statue of me? Or a statue of _you_?” 

Elodie laughed, but not in the way that made him feel small or stupid, but in a way that let him know that they found him endearing. Another little _something_ that was new and different, but not unwelcome. Apparently, he had been starved of attention and affection all of his life? “Haven’t you had enough of fighting for a lifetime? Also, _please _never use the word ‘erect’ unironically ever again, that was _awful_.” Still laughing, they leaned in and stole a kiss, open-mouthed and hot, and Lucio groaned wantonly. Hell, if he had running _blood_, the _things _he would be trying to instigate right _now-_\- 

The apprentice leaned back. Their lips still looked bruised from _last _night's antics, and Lucio made a needy sound in the back of his throat, unable to look away from them. 

Elodie combed a hand through their hair to scoop it out of their eyes, a tic of theirs Lucio had noticed. “Hey, I—please stop staring at my mouth, you horndog—had an idea. Just a thought.” 

Lucio stopped looking at their mouth with obvious difficulty. “I’m _not _a horndog, and I resent being called that. How fucking dare you.” When Elodie gave him a long suffering look, he laughed, then propped up his head on his elbow, ready to listen. 

Again, Elodie smiled. “So, y’know how Asra apparently brought _me _back to life, right? Using the body that was supposed to be yours?” Lucio grimaced. These were _not _good morning conversations to be having. Elodie moved forward to kiss his frown away in apology and he relaxed, tension bleeding out of his shoulders. When they were satisfied that he wasn’t upset anymore, Elodie continued. “Like, we don’t have to do this. Not at all. But maybe we could make a deal with one of the Arcana for a body ourselves?” Lucio arched an eyebrow and Elodie looked sheepish. “Erm, and by ‘we’, I mean me?” 

The Count exhaled, annoyed. “That’s what I thought._ And _that is a harebrained idea.” 

“I thought only Asra’s ideas were harebrained, and that I was a ‘great’, ‘powerful’, and ‘hot’ magician?” Elodie ventured, a half-smile on their face that made Lucio want to take them there and now. If he was in control of the way his form looked, he absolutely _would._

“You are all of those things, songbird--_a__nd _hairbrained.” Amused by their antics, Lucio shook his head, sitting up against the pillows. He had no interest on going back to his wing in the castle—three years of isolation there in the body of a goat had been _more _than enough time—so they had been holed up in Elodie’s guest bedroom in the palace. Elodie had all but given Asra the deed to their shop, and they lived there alone now; for some reason, Elodie had agreed to stay with Lucio in the palace. Lucio fancied the idea that it was because they were just as constantly horny as he was...but it was probably so Lucio would not be hanging around the shop with Asra. “You saw what happened after _I _made a deal with the Devil, and that demon from the South to create the plague. Why would you want to do that again?” 

That made Elodie go quiet, which was_ not _like them. Usually they were only quiet when Lucio was talking or telling a story. Elodie sat up now as well, resting their hands in their lap, watching the comforter pool and wrinkle as they shifted their weight. They were naked, Lucio realized, a pang going through him as he inspected their bare, freckled shoulders with new interest, again wishing he did not need to discuss having his clothes removed in order to fuck Elodie’s brains out at any given moment. _Fucking _hell. 

Finally, they spoke, and he stopped imagining all the different ways he could make them scream and paid attention. “Well, you want a body back. And your freedom. And I want you to be happy. So, I would be willing to negotiate for that.” They locked eyes with him decidedly, appearing very vulnerable in this admission, but it was also one they were willing to make. There were things Lucio could not say, things he may never be able to say, so usually Elodie would say them, instead. Now was one of those times where he did not have the language to express his feelings. 

They tangle their fingers, untangle them, tangle them again. Elodie waited a beat and, after deciding he wasn’t going to reply, said, “Isn’t that what you want?” 

_ Fuck_, he adored this person. 

Lucio’s eyes blackened, wide with shock and wonder and lust, and Elodie seemed surprised by this reaction. Their jaw slackened for a moment. Then the apprentice grinned slowly, mischievously, and began to crawl across the bed to him; his gaze snapped to their wide hips. He swallowed. “Unless you want to have to ask me to get rid of your clothes every time you wanted to make love?” they purred, and he realized that his arousal had been obvious to the apprentice this _entire_ time and that, perhaps, Elodie had just been pretending not to notice. “Unless you really want to _beg_ every time you want me to get in your pants?” They were on their hands and knees over his lap now, looking up into his pale features, expression coy. “Don’t you want to have the agency to take me whenever, and wherever, you want?” 

That wasn’t the only reason, of course. But Lucio was not thinking of those other reasons right now. Instead he growled and pulled them forward, kissing them like a starving man, and they grabbed onto his undershirt, using a concentrated bout of magic to rid him of his outfit as they had done countless times before now. They made a soft, desperate sound when their hands felt his cool skin and his cock twitched. 

Some days he was slow and relentless when taking them, but it was clear that this would not be one of those times. “_Bend over_,” he hissed, and Elodie obeyed, breaking away so they could turn around. His metal arm gripped onto their waist bruisingly while the other moved to plunge a finger into their core. Elodie’s toes curled and they buried their face into the blankets, a shameless sound escaping them; they had realized that the more vocal they were, the more vocal _Lucio_ was. Holding back was never something they did during sex anymore. 

Two fingers later, then three, and then he had sheathed himself into them fully without a word of warning. Elodie cried out, fisting the comforter, bracing themselves against the mattress as he pulled back and slammed his hips forward, shaking them both, setting a rapid pace. He _had _said that he preferred instant gratification, after all, once in the snow not so very long ago. 

Though that wasn’t always true, Elodie had discovered on the second night since they had chained the Devil. Lucio enjoyed being handled roughly as much as he enjoyed doing the rough handling. 

“_Fuck_, that feels good, hit that spot again, please--” Well, that, and being told he was doing well. Lucio loved compliments in and out of the bedroom. 

He picked up speed, breathing raggedly, and leaned over to kiss and bite at their browned back, leaving bruises and drawing blood. Elodie hissed. Lucio marked his territory so all would know that the little apprentice was wanted and taken; they already had plenty of marks on their bared throat to solidify that thought. Let no one else try and take what was his. 

Lucio found release swiftly, and came with a roar, hunched over Elodie, shuddering as he planted kisses down their spine. He withdrew shakily. They turned to kiss him, their kiss becoming a cry as his fingers moved down to play with the small bundle of nerves at their core, and they came soon after. 

As they lay together after, with his head resting on their chest, arms wound around their middle, and their legs framing either side of them, he muttered, “I do.” 

Elodie stilled, not processing. “Huh?” 

“I want all of that, and more. I want it_ all_, Elodie. To feel the sun, to eat food and feel _full _afterward, to get shitfaced at my parties, to be able to fuck you anywhere and everywhere without you needing to get all my damn clothes off with magic every time. But, I...you....” There were some things he didn’t have the words for yet. Lucio did not know how to say the things he wanted to say to them, to explain the feelings he had, so he avoided them instead. “..It would fucking blow if I got my body and you lost yours, darling.” 

They looked down their chest at him, smiling, and he knew the message had got across. Lucio wilted, relieved. Somehow Elodie had never had a problem deciphering his thoughts and actions. No matter how vague they were, or how much he tried to hide them. “You’re right. That _would _be awful. But you know what else is awful?” 

“Not getting fucked by me?” 

The apprentice flushed. “Not getting fu--?_ No_, not that. I mean, yes, but that’s not what I was going to say, you hemorrhoid.” 

For some reason that was the funniest goddamn thing Lucio had ever heard, and he burst out laughing. As he shook and giggled, Elodie ran their fingers across his shoulders while trying to keep a straight face. “No, Lucio. You being stuck in limbo or whatever this is forever would be awful. I want to do whatever I can to help. No matter what that entails.” When he settled down, the Count turned his head to press a kiss between their nipples, then moved up to press one at the base of their throat. They had freckles on their chest, too, he noticed. Lucio rested his head down again, content to stay snuggling all day, as Elodie spoke, body rumbling beneath him as if their words came from within a cavern. “Do you want to stay here when you get your body back?” 

When. Not ‘if’. Appreciating their certainly in his future, Lucio snuggled closer. “Where? The Palace? Vesuvia?” 

Elodie shrugged, looking at the ceiling now. “Both. Either.” 

Lucio mulled this over. “I would very much like to be the king around here again.” 

“_Count_. You were a Count, not king. And don’t you want to travel? Nadia has things covered around here, and you were a corpse. I don’t know if she would relinquish the throne over to a corpse.” 

At that, Lucio spluttered. “_Elodie_! I am _not_ a corpse! Could a corpse fuck you like I did? _No_.” He huffed. “_Not_ a corpse. And the people here loved me! They’ll want me back, even _more_ than Noddy.” Elodie gave him a pointed look that he scowled and withered under. After all this, he still had a difficult time not acting like a petulant child. Or being honest with himself and the people around him. “..Where else would I go if not here?” he asked. 

Elodie softened. “_We _could go anywhere. We could travel the _world_, Lucio,” they replied enthusiastically, petting his head, feeling him lean into their touch with each stroke. “Y’know, you don’t have to be in charge of anything to be important.” 

“I was a prince back home I’ll have you know.” 

“_Barely_.” He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue this point. His mother had never planned on letting him inherit control of their people, and after he had come clean to Elodie—well, more like the world had forced him to come clean—he had told them this, too. The memory of that still stung--looking Elodie in the eye and telling them all the deals he made, all the people they had hurt, the plague he had embodied. He had waited for them to hit him or walk away. Either would have made more sense than them putting their hand on his shoulder and saying, “_Well, that explains why the Arcana Realm hates you. We’ll figure it out.” _and then moving on. Lucio was awestruck every time they kissed him or touched him without fear or hatred. He could not imagine sucking the dick of somebody who was responsible for your death, but he had never once felt any resentment from the apprentice. They had taken his history [and dick] in stride and helped him build something better out of his future. “But do you really need everyone in the world to love you if just a few people did? If I did?” 

Well, that was unexpected. He lifted himself upright, hovering over Elodie, suddenly serious. “What, do you?” It wasn’t possible. But if anybody were going to, it would be them. 

“Yeah, I do. I love you.” Instead of balking or making light of it like Lucio would, Elodie looked at him earnestly, head on. It was Lucio who flushed to his roots, lowering himself to bury his nose in the apprentice’s hair, leaving adoring, fiery kisses of thanks there. After some speculation, Lucio was not sure that anybody had ever_ loved _him before. Not his people, not his “friends”, not Nadia. His mother, Morga, thought loving him too much was her greatest regret, that he had become what he was because she had loved and protected him. But Elodie—yes, Elodie might. It didn’t make sense, but for some reason he believed in it. If anybody could, it would be this ridiculous creature looking at him right now. “So, whenever we get you a proper, solid body, I would _v__ery _much like to leave this place and travel the world with you, if you’re up to it. Traveling in the Arcana Realm was fun when we weren’t someone’s prey, and I think we would have fun traveling again. A life of adventure and you sounds good to me.” 

When he looked back at their face, their cheeks were dusted pink, but Elodie’s eyes were big and ardent and_ warm_. He trusted in it, in this. And so Lucio seriously considered this option. His parents hadn’t wanted him. Versuvia hadn’t wanted him. Nadia hadn’t wanted him. Jules, Asra, they didn’t want him. The Courtiers _used _him. The Devil exploited him. But Elodie said they loved him, and they _wanted_ him, and they bound him to them, and they fought the Devil _alone_ for him, and-- “That sounds alright to me,” he murmured, sounding uncharacteristically soft. “Also, that thing you said? Before? Just awhile ago? I feel that, too.” 

Elodie knew what he meant. But just because they had created an unbearably mushy energy in the room and if it continued, they would both be too embarrassed to speak, they asked sardonically, “Which thing? That you’re not in charge of anything and you aren’t important?” 

Lucio barked out a laugh, startled. “_No_, you little brat, not that. You have a lot of fuckin’ moxie for the thief who stole my body, you know.” But he was smiling down at them, and it was the softest expression they had ever seen on his face to date. He knew they knew, too. Even though he couldn’t say it. 

Yet. 

Winding their arms around Lucio’s neck, Elodie tugged, lowering him down to their mouth and kissed him fervently, happily, because this conversation, though sidetracked, had gone_ so_ much better than they had expected. They had thought Lucio would evade and deny and joke and run, as he is wont to do, but he _didn’t_. Lucio hugged them tightly after they broke apart, and Elodie nuzzled their nose into his cheek. They stayed like that for quite some time longer, whispering sweet nothings, but mostly just enjoying their time together, not being chased, not being expected to do anything or be anywhere, not quite awake and not quite asleep. Elodie pressed a kiss to Lucio’s forehead, and he hummed his appreciation. 

“Ready to go face the daylight?” they asked. 

“Dee, I’m not ready to do_ anything_.” 

“Hm, no. Don’t call me that ever again, please and thanks.” 

“Odie?” 

“Nope.” 

“Elle?” 

“That one’s not as bad. But still, no. I like your pet names better than your nicknames.” Elodie wriggled out from under him and stood, going to get dressed. Lucio propped himself up and watched them put on their baggy black pants and sleeveless wrap—no matter how many outfits Nadia expended on them, or how much Lucio begged to drown them in the finest silks, they still preferred their own street clothes. They left to wash their face and brush their teeth. When they returned, they moved to lace their fingers with Lucio’s. His royal garb reappeared on his ghostly form. “Come on. We have books to read and, possibly, a ritual to learn how to perform.” 

“I still think this is a bad idea.” he informed them, but he couldn’t help smiling. Even though he thought this arrangement was suspect to failing, Elodie continued to surprise him. 

“I don’t care. Besides, maybe the deal will be that I lose an arm? We could match. Or maybe they want an eye, and I could get an eye patch like Jules?” This idea made Lucio groan, and Elodie laughed as they tugged him to his feet. “Whatever it is, I’ll want you with me afterward, if you’ll have me.” 

Lucio looked down at the little sprite of a magician, chest warm. “I think we’ve more than covered that I’ll have you.” 

Elodie beamed. “Then let’s go make a deal.” 


End file.
